Silk: Web of Change
by DarthDredden
Summary: We all know Peter Parker as the Amazing Spider-Man, but what if there was another bitten that day? What if a young woman named Cindy Moon became the defender of the New York City? Join Silk as she returns to the City a changed woman, after four years of mysterious absences. From her homecoming she'll face classic spidey villains and slowly discover truth about her origin.
1. Issue 1: Once Bitten

_AN: For anyone who hasn't read the Silk comic line from Spiderverse, she's basically another spiderperson bitten by the same spider as Parker, with a blurred sense of morality. The main idea for this was 'What if Silk was the main hero? And what happened to Peter?' This is the first thing I've ever written so please don't lynch me, I'm a big Spidy fan. This is also part of a bigger series being co-written by a guy called Valkurion, expect some Iron Man from him. Hope you enjoy and leave any feedback if you like._

* * *

 **Silk: Web Of Change**

Issue 1: Once Bitten

* * *

"Crap, double crap! Why did I wear heels? Do boys even like heels? Stop talking to yourself Cindy and focus, you're late. God I'm so late."

Pulse racing and heart beating with a mixture of nerves and adrenaline, Cindy Moon runs through New York City like a bat outta hell. The weight of her rucksack swinging side to side, blended with her heels making this impossible for her.

"Screw it." She rips of her heels as quick as she could. Knowing her bag was full she throws them to the city's belly and continues to spurt as fast as her little legs can carry her. "I really hope a cop didn't see that. Doesn't matter almost there. Please be open, please be open."

As she dashes around the corner, she sees faces crowded together. Faces. That's all that mattered to her at this moment, proof that she wasn't amazingly late, that there was still some resemblance of time left for her to experience even as the morning drew itself out ever closer to the afternoon and unretrievable lateness, and she so desperately wanted to make an effort on this historic occasion. She starts scanning through the sea of handsome suits and delicate dresses. _Where is he? Oh god please don't say he's left. Not another one._ Panic starts to set like clay in the ground. _I knew I should've worn my mums dress._ She looks down at herself in gloomy black skinny jeans and a rough leather jacket, hardly the perfect outfit for the respectable gentleman in question. Embarrassment and anxiety take over as bodies cover every inch of her sight. _Why am I here looking like a fool outside? I don't even like science._

"Cindy!" A young man walking through the sheep like the wolf that he embodies in the structure of his steps. This figure is the opposite to her, the confidence, the knowledge and understanding. She knew he was everything she wasn't and she was enthralled by it, always had been. Maybe that was why she had made such an effort this morning despite she was appalled by the stickiness and biological seal that science and anatomy formed in her young and adaptive mind. But then again, anything for the young and handsome vision that was Harry Osborne.

"Hey Harry" with nerves in her bone, her movement had been reduced to that of a lone tree in a light wind. The awkwardness had taken an ethereal grip of her concealed shoulders, forcing her to stay still in his powerful presence. Harry wasn't just a normal guy or even one of little note. He was Harry freaking Osborne, son of the creme de la creme of New York City and one of its most powerful and wealthiest. Harry was the son of the brilliant and genius scientist Norman Osborne, the founder of Oscorp and its commander in chief. Harry would one day inherit his father's post and ascend to heights Cindy could only ever dream of in the City. Maybe it was that which enticed her so intensely towards Harry's sphere of influence.

"Cindy? Harry looks intensely into the eyes of his date. "Why the hell are you not wearing shoes? _"._ Cindy freezes as one word barged its way through her head _. Shit._ He was right, and now she felt incredibly out of place with her bare feet tramping around a genetics laboratory. And there he was in his business three piece suit and tanned loafers looking like a million dollars, made even worse by tie inscribed with a small Oscorp logo; Norman was already grooming Harry to go into partnership, whilst Cindy was just a normal thirteen year old New Yorker on a date with an above average prep, and she was now barefoot. _Great, just great. Laugh Cindy, flutter your eyes and stroke your hair back behind your ear. They think it's cute right?,_ Harry would think so, well, at least if she wasn't laughing, fluttering her eyes while stroking her hair simultaneously. What would have been a seductive play turned into what looked like an epileptics worst nightmare. Not to mention the laugh. _Oh god._ Wishing she could crash her face into her palm. _Okay make conversation now Cindy!_ "So…The sky's nice." _Ugh Jesus Christ, I'd love to ask what is actually happening here._

"You have no idea what today's about do you?", laughs Harry. Cindy retreats into herself that little bit more. The confidence that was scarce, shrinks evermore so thin. "It's fine", Harry reassures her, offering her his hand is sweet accordance with the informal date they had planned, "follow me", Taking her hand quickly and sharply, the two weave through the crowd like ghosts.

 _What is he doing?_ Cindy tightly grips his, obvious but, lavish jacket to make sure not to lose his grace but the comfortable Harry holds on his steps without any signal. It was so quick and sudden.

"Hey over here P...!" Cindy's date was calling over a someone, a very dubious and unexpected someone, and she didn't quite hear the name. No doubt it was one of his friend's that she had not accounted for on this outing.

And now she was nervous again. _Oh god no please not an ex. Double please not an ex, I bet she's beautiful, sexy and rich._

But it most certainly not an ex, unless she knew even less about Harry than she first thought. The person walking toward them was however thin, with his shirt tucked in too tightly by way of his tanned and handed down belt with a sweater vest covering the dorky checkered pattern; almost like he didn't know what fashion was. His glasses roughly resting on his nose and his hairstyle was a step from the seventies. Cindy could see, even if she would never admit it, she could see her own unorganised and rushed self in this boy however even she could see that compared to him she looked a million bucks worth of pretty. The two obvious friends lock body's like brothers in arms. _I didn't even think rich people hugged, who the hell is this dweeb?_

"This is Cindy" Harry shows his friend who in turn lifts his hand into a wave in such an awkward way the young and yet kind of cute man knocks off his own glasses. With Cindy's reflexes being as sharp as they could be for a teen of her nature she darts down and scoops them up in a pinch, passing them back to Peter's nervous and now slightly shaking hands.

"Thanks. I'm Peter, Peter Parker." The ball of nerves now ventures for a pathetic handshake, feeling the warmth of Cindy's skin and the slight static in her aura.

Harry realising that he's been left out for too long decides to involve himself. "What are you doing here buddy?"

Peter takes out an old camera from his pocket, most likely a gift from some relation since it would only ever be found in a pawnshop or antique store.

"You know, I wanted capture history in the making Harry", Peter smiles softly. Cindy looks up at Harry in bewilderment, in truth now she had no actual idea what was happening around them. All she had come for was the man to the side of her conversing with his friend, who serendipitously just happened to be there at the same time.

Harry knew for a fact Cindy had no clue what was happening on this day, it was a small game to the young prince, making her guess what the night held, so that he could retain control of this date as he had done on all of his dates prior. _I'm going to have to ask him aren't I? Perfect._

She takes hold of his almost overly clean hand to grab his attention. "Harry I know that we're here to see like a mad experiment and everything, but-"

Peter is just unable to help himself from bursting with the excitement of sharing his knowledge, he had always been as such with everyone in his proximity; no wonder to Cindy he had only one friend. "Actually this is a demonstration of an existing new technology call neogenix and-"

"Oh look, Peter, it's time to move in for the demonstration." The wealth puts his arm over Cindy Moon, bringing her ever closer to him, to his warmth and crude aroma that clung to him like a cancer, just to make sure everyone could stop and stare in awe of he, the handsome son of the scientist and her, his date, his girl.

Now all are in inside the university and ready to witness the results from the world changing experiment. Cindy looks in amazement at the sure size of the room, the air of it and that of its occupants; the walls might as well be made of riches. It is safe to say that she did not belong here, she was so unused to this life, her background and this didn't relate at all. She was a simple girl, interested in simple things with almost no responsibility of her own. Her feeling of this had been amplified to great lengths as the only person that came from her world of living had gone off to take photos of the spectacle transpiring before them.

A greatly well dressed gentleman walks to take the eyes of the room, almost as a sage if you will. His confidence smoothly pours from him like a dark chocolate flooding over the audience. The women in the room melt for this man and the men want to be him. Cindy looks to towards the ring leader with eager eyes. _Who do you think you are? King of the nerds?_ Even though she would never say it out loud Cindy would have to say the elderly man still had a charm about him, inviting and warm, like a song on the radio and then hearing it again and again all day. He was strangely familiar, like everyone could automatically trust him.

"Welcome. Well you all know who I am so we'll skip all that. Today we'll take one fundamental step into the vast expanse of human evolution" he begins, a smile already painted across his face, one that was befitting of his huge confidence and his extensive vocabulary that even Harry admired. "Imagine, humans, able to take properties, abilities, even the exact physical form of any other living organism on this Earth." Now that peaks even Cindy's interests, _but how could any of this be a reality?_ "Imagine the human race, only stronger, faster, free from injury and free from age. With Neogenix that dream can be a reality today" he pauses, awaiting the end of the applause that had already erupted and engulfed the entire room, even Cindy.

"Now I know we're all eager to see the wondrous work of the lab so I'll finish up quickly. I'd like to thank Professor Stillwell for leading of the project and for being a personal friend. I thank the team that made this all possible and finally I'd like to thank my son, Harry, for his involvement, and his continuing support of me and my leadership of Oscorp, plus his input into Neogenix Project" the man was now looking towards Harry's direction with warming and loving eyes with his aged and yet strong hand extended.

"So from me and the rest of the team here at Oscorp. Thank you for coming and enjoy the show."

The crowd lights up with another round of applause and congratulations but Cindy just looks to Harry with the look of confusion and a shock. Harry looks back with a smug smile followed by giving a cheeky wink yet Cindy's feeling of embarrassment and of how little she really knew about what was going on this historic day was setting deep in her bones. It was another excuse for the prep to show off his majestic awesomeness. What made matters worse for her was that she was eating it up all the way, her knees completely weak for him, his strength and his position and his everything. _Why didn't he tell me that this presentation was from his father? Norman goddamn Osborne was just in front of us!_

Another professor walks to take the stage with nerves running down his cratered face. Cindy retreats into her inner shell once again, still in shock from the speech Norman had delivered. She was starting to relate to this professor, thinking about how this unknown individual must be feeling after the titan that is Norman Osborne.

"Hello. I'm Professor Stillwell welcome..." the man of obvious knowledge but nothing else freezes his words for a second beginning to play with his crystal white lab coat just to ease the tension in his spinal column which, at this point, must be killing him slowly. "Yes well some of you may ask what is Neogenix" he was already making Cindy fall to sleep gradually. Hell anyone could after the supreme performance Norman had delivered.

"Well, we here at… Oscorp, well we harnesses radioactivity for genetic experiment with this." Stillwell, giving his feather thin body a turn, holds up trembling hand with a strange looking piece of mechanical engineering. "The Neogenix Recomberater". Cindy laughs to herself. The Professor faces the lighting with pride for the masterpiece he'd just unveiled. At least this world changing demonstration was starting to feel more like some kind of pantomime to Cindy, which made her find the comedy in it as she did with everything, her sarcastic nature taking hold of her lack of caring.

"Now here we have a pumpkin," the assistants bring out such on his words, "and here we have a tomato" another brings out the very same. He holds the two fruits like they were the key to life itself. Cindy had to hand it to him though, he is in his element, fully displaying his passion for his project. He did love his work and that much was obvious, just his demeanor did nothing for him as far as Cindy was concerned. Taking charge of the head computer Stillwell suddenly receives his final feeling power and drive for the demonstration, for this moment he feels something he hadn't in a long time; control. That graceful feeling running through his veins only to be turned ghastly by the sight of the Norman. In the shadows, out of the sight of any other eyes but Stillwell's; Norman's stare smothering him, hunting him, forcing his weak throat to swallow his pride and crawl back into himself.

"Right. Okay, ladies and gentlemen now we will be using Neogenix publically for the first time", mechanical valves release and motors run as the mechanics are aimed to the rose coloured fruit with the pumpkin directly behind. Cindy, unable to resist the feeling her interest grow like a tree of knowledge. "We will take the genome sequence that makes the tomato skin red and insert it into the pumpkin's DNA." The beam of radiation penetrates the fruit. Its rich golden glow truly beautiful, the crowd melting in awe. The professor walks over to the still radiating pumpkin with an achievement simmering in him. He picks up his success with a grin smug enough to belong on the face of Lucifer himself. "Making the skin, red."

The crowd switch on with an explosion, even Cindy could feel the rush of wow. Unable to help herself, she jumps, claps and screams with excitement "Yes, haha Yes!" Forgetting that perfect Harry was standing just beside her, but this didn't matter as Harry's pride, title and success had all came through for him at once like a stampede of self worth. Claiming Cindy by the waist and taking her lips for his own. Cindy freezes up, her eyes in shock before melting into his warm embrace and kiss, losing herself in the maze of his warm and yet wet taste, his aroma and his cologne. _This is greatest day of my… Arr!_ A horrendous pain impales its way through her small delicate foot like a scorching knife, forcing her to break her passionate moment with Harry and her body falling to one knee. _What was that?_ Harry, feeling insulted by Cindy's sudden lack of interest in him turns away, uncaring that there is obviously more to her actions but as smart as Harry is, he had always been self minded.

Pain floods into her being like a virus attacking her from the inside. Looking to the chilled floor, she notices a spider radiating with a dim golden brilliance, crawling along the floor weakly, like it was dying. _Why's it glowing like that? Is it radioactive?_ The room begins to spin in her head like a terrifying whirlwind, illness and weakness all concerning her at once, before passing out into the ground.

* * *

 _Four Years Later_

* * *

 _Am I bad person? Did I do this?_ A figure crouched like a hunter in the shadows of the roof of a old warehouse hearing the sound of her city crying, screaming, begging of mercy. _I could of stopped this, I've been gone too long and I think time I corrected that._ The figure is released from the dark, rising to glow of the moon.

Flickering flashes of red and blue light and the pricing sound of the sharp sirens flood the air outside the Midtown High School. Bodies fill the surroundings, taking cover behind the vehicles, guns out, armed and ready for a firefight. "Kasady this is the police! We have the building surrounded! Come out now and nobody gets hurt!" The highest ranking officer on the scene barks into a loudspeaker, tuned high enough to pierce through the rest of the noise.

Laughter tears it's way into the officers' ears, it's insanity echoing from inside the fortress school. "Nobody gets hurt? What fun would that be?" A deranged and stir crazy cackle rings from inside. From a window on the second floor the disembodied voice tosses a grenade; it explodes spectacularly between two blue and white New York Police Department cars, taking them out in merciless flames. The horde of police cower and are ordered back several feet for their own safety. This isn't going to be easy at all.

A young female officer runs over to a particular male officer standing with a heavily armed squad in confidence. "Detective Stacy. It's Kasady" she reports with a stout nod.

"This needs to end quickly before civilians get in the crossfire" he responds. Stacy, seeing the black suit and fear staining her face, the dread of what she was witnessing, knows she was right, this carnage needs to end. "Right. I'll need a distraction in about a minute."

Her hand holds out a weapon shaking in complete fear. "Is it true? The things he's done?" The Detective replies with a stare holding personal experience in his eyes with this particular individual. Seeing him answer in a face that could tell a thousand tales, her heart drops along with her crown, down in shock and disgust. "God. He's not man he's a monster"

"No. He's a criminal" the aged detective replies to her stark statement.

Stacy places his work hardened yet warm hearted hand gently on her shivering shoulder. The young officer pulls herself together in front of this well respected legend and replies with a sharp nod.

"Be careful guys, you know Kasady loves to make a example of us" he rallies the nearby officers. The Detective looks to his followers with leadership, to see respect looking right back at him from all angles.

"Alright men; get a perimeter up and get SWAT here as soon as possible. In the meantime we're taking that bastard down the old fashioned way."

The team run around to back of the believed to be at this time uninhibited school, taking formation. A cushing explosion comes from the front of the building. "That's our distraction, move in!"

Kicking the door down the team move in, this isn't nothing they haven't done before, each one of them knowing this is the job taking out monsters like Kasady. "Safeties off for this one boys" Stacy instructs the incursion team, he has no time to play cat and mouse with someone as insane as Cletus Kasady.

Running up the steps all locked and loaded the forces reach a coldly unlit hallway filled with unreplaced decaying doors and rusting lockers. It didn't matter who you were there was something skin crawling about the silence and past life, of this so very important yet unimportant building.

A pricing sound of a terrified scream runs down hall to greet them. The officers sharpen to the sound. Stacy's keen ears and sharpened reflexes trickle to the acoustics of the tones, he'd already done this many times.

"Men this is now a hostage situation. Keep focused and on the lookout for civilians Kasady will be unpredictable" again he instructs with his bold bluster in sharp contrast to the overbearing essence of fear from the cops. Stacy Leads the squad firmly to a door with a tight command.

A cry forcing its way out through fingers then continuing its way to the Detective's ears, coming for the door just to their left. "Daddy!" Such a familiar voice shrieking through the hallway, the sound of his daughter screaming for her detective father to come save her from the maniacal pyromaniac

George Stacy eyes explode in fear "Gwen" he whispers, save giving away their position, he isn't just racing to book another arrest, now he races to save his own daughter.

The cry for help is quickly cut short, as another wishes to communicate with scaring laughter. "Careful boys, wouldn't want to startle me. I just might end up making a mess over here. Now bring Old Man Georgy in if you would be so kind, alone!"

This is a tight space to be in. They all know he would kill her if they didn't follow his instructions and above all George Stacy knows.

"Stand down men!" His mask of duty and leadership had been removed, what is underneath is the face of a father. His men look to him with doubt and a lack of confidence.

"Please. She's my daughter" he breathes into the open space, hoping his words carry to the madman with the weapon. Only out of respect and understanding do the men lower their weapons. The father walks his path of judgment to the thick oak door near the end of the corridor, the men waiting for orders next.

Placing his hand on its smooth yet ice chilled handle, even he could notice the nerves focusing in on his hand to shake ever so slightly, weighing the odds of the situation. Kasady, his daughter and a gun. He knew how quick this could go south but he was willing to take the risk, for his daughter he was willing to do anything, so he continues to anxiously open and walk through the back hole like doorway.

The hairs on the back of his neck start to rise with the cruel stinging texture in the air. For what he could visualise in darkness, the room looked empty. Continuing slowly to voyage into the center like a werey wild animal.

A weep slightly comes to life to be mercilessly cut down by the raw of the great oak door slamming shut.

"Mr Stacy, so glad you could make it, parents evening has started" the maniac breathes down the old detective's throat. Slithering out of the twilight with a terrified seventeen year old girl's throat in one hand and gleaming Magnum in the other. "I'm afraid that little Gwen here has been very good indeed, not doing too well in following her father's footsteps now isn't she? If you know what I mean?"

"Daddy please" with innocent blue eyes soaking with tears Gwen desperately cries out for her father.

The parent to the hostage feeling a plague of powerlessness infecting him as he watches this lunatic move his cracking lips closer to his little girl's creamy cheeks as he takes a sniff of her hair tied back blonde hair. "Give her to me. Please, Cletus"

"Would you like her skinned or diced and sliced? Please!..Be more specific George" he looks to his foe and smiles, such a simple thing causing Stacy the most fearful moment of his life. That soulless grin, sleep hunting.

"Aww don't be so sad old man. I'll let her go soon, that's the point but before the show can begin, you have tell your friends they're not invited to this party" snarling the sound, as he carelessly runs the gun barrel though his red flame hair.

"Oh and I have all the security cameras of this dump streaming right here" the madman makes a crooked laugh and opens up a laptop screen displaying the cautiously waiting officers.

"So I'll know if they do and if they don't, well, I'd love to give this pretty lady a makeover." He pushes the icy gun barrel to the smooth rosewood like flesh that is her cheek. "Shhh, baby it's ok, don't be scared, you're mother did that, whimpered like a doe. Pathetic, didn't end well for her, did it daddy?"

Stacy's anger and hate infects his judgment like virus as he watches his daughter eyes swell with tears. That shaming acknowledgement deep down of realising if he was given the chance in this moment, he'd take this man life. Looking upon this freakshow in overwhelming horror, trying not to believe how familiar this sight is.

"I've had a long time to imagine this dance Georgy. We've always been a house on fire you and..." Kasady's twisted and deformed words gradually begin mute as Stacy's attention is obtained by another.  
 _  
What is that?_

Shadows begin to dance behind the psychopath. The ceiling seems to hold something in its darkness, no real shape to the twilight seeded in it, almost in hiding it. Whatever the hidden charade was, no one could know how long it had been in this room, it was certainly watching them. Stacy is the only witness to this demonic like void above Kasady's head causing words to begin to fall on deaf ears. The Detective begins to observe closer but subtly, save giving himself away, the darkness gently repositioning itself for something unknown to all. After a small flick, Stacy observantly spots the four limbs to signify human.

That very instant Stacy finds himself looking into unreadable chestnut eyes. Eyes with weight, with past and with a burden. Before the detective makes sense as to why there would and could someone stare at him from the ceiling. It sends a signal with its mysterious eyes. _Down_? In that second the momentum of this deformed situation excels in to carnage, with pouncing from the roof, like a spider to its prey it lands behind the insane, revealing itself to be a she, slivering her silk dressed arm between Kasady and his entertainment.

The figure flashes in couple of solid shots before the maniac could even react. Now the savior had warmed up a primal side had clawed out, attack after attack like a brakeless train aggressively disarming him. She keeps coming at him using techniques with a definite martial arts origin before having her rhythm cut by the sound of spain chilling laughter.

The Detective, now keeping low to Gwen guarded by his protecting arms, watching the two titans square off. The young defender stands ready in her bizarrely misty white suit, wrapped tight to her pale flesh, the texture looking unusual, like woven silk in the distorted light. The identity of this female hidden behind a white face mask of sort, concealing the entire space from the bottom of the chin to the short and petite nose, along the smooth jawline too. _  
_  
"Wow!" Kasady cries out. "Well I can safely say, I did _not_ see that coming" Kasady runs his skeleton like hand dramatically down the sharp features of his bleeding and cracked face.

"You showed me yours, it's only good manners for me to show you mine" he follows, releasing a mangled smile with blood swelling in his mouth; in personal preference the demented personality allows the pool escape though his decomposed teeth. With a lift of his shirt Kasady announces his finale with showmanship. "Okay class! Anyone recognise this?" He giggles to himself as the words retreat from his mouth. "Now remember, no shouting out, hands up."

The Stacy fear drops into dread, holding Gwen ever so tightly. "That's home made explosives? Kasady You Can't!"

The madman overjoys in the fact that he is about to murder everything, including himself, right here, right now on this forsaken night of freak shows. "Correctamente little pops and in just thirty seco-"

"-Thanks for the heads up sweetie" the woman in silk shoots a vine of web of out fingertips pulling explosives of waste from his chest into her grasp before fearlessly jumping out window.

Stacy, wasting not a second, darts for Kasady's gun and proceeds to beat the scumbag down to the ground before calling in for some back up. Even though defeated, Stacy is still looking in the eyes of a freakshow that sold out. "It matters not Daddy, there's no way she'll get far enough away. We're all gonna go kaboomy!" He barks, followed by a cackle as if it were made of signing cats from his terrible lungs.

Rush and speed work their way through Silk's mindset. As her light young body scales the side of the school like a spider to its roof. _Must go faster, must go faster._ The bomb in her hand ticking away really beginning to remind her of the true horrific outcome should she fail. _This much explosive material will take out the whole building. I'll get far enough to…_ Pausing in her thoughts Silk looks to the above inhabited with wonder. _The sky?_ Taking a glimpse to the clock timer on the bomb to witness twelve seconds until detonation staring right back at her in dreadful red. Taking a scan for two similar sized buildings to get her high enough into the air, far enough for the detonation of the bomb to leave the high school unscathed. _They'll do._

With her targets found she uses her strength to super jump from the roof to two abandoned warehouse _s_ and race up the gritty, rough walls at incredible speeds like a wild animal chasing its prey. Feeling the rush bullet through her vines like a storm as she shoots them out from her fingertips towards the tips of the building to slingshot herself upward. The lives of people, even her own on the edge of a knife, would and should feel terrifying but yet couldn't stop her, as it came with the feeling of freedom and worth. If she told you she did this just to help people this night, she'd be lying. Firing a thick web between the building, she exits onto the edge with a explosive in one hand and fate of many lives in the other. _God I hope this works._ The doubt manifests in her gut but nevertheless propels herself to the edge by dropping from the its grip. The air hastens past her as she accelerates through the cold and bitter air like a flying knife, her momentum crashing into the web she'd previously prepared. Using her weight and velocity to slingshot the bomb into the empty air above but just short of time, the explosion taking out the peaks of buildings in glorious flame and light. Silk in quick thinking dives through the warehouse window to escape the tumbling mass, the heat of the crudely prepared explosion scorching the web of her suit around the back and searing it from her, exposing bare skin almost down to her pelvis.

* * *

"This time Kasady, you ain't getting out" Stacy remarks with a stout cigar dropping from his teeth to the floor as he finishes, like the detective bombshell he always had been; and cool as a cucumber.

Kasady's madness had been put into handcuffs as a swarm of officers escort the one man to the rear of a heavy armored SWAT van. An officer looks to his fellow partner with the doubt of what his vision could inform him so he had to ask, had to confirm. "Did all this just happen? What was that thing?"

Stacy looks back out into the night, rain beginning to drop from the cloud bearing overhead. "I have no damn idea."

* * *

Damp flame fades on the top of some unlucky buildings caught in the blast, the heat fading from her bare back now as the chill of the night catches her, the night being the perfect cover for a new protector to watch the animal caged once and for all from the dazzling heights of what New York City had to offer.

 _Well that went well._ She cradles her red stained arm as words make fun of her mentally. _You'll be fine, you heal faster than most now, remember? Yay me._ Her own sarcastic tone starts to test her patience. _I think it's time I move on… Yeah move on._ Turning her back on the won battle only she faces a revelation that would change everything.

 _That's not mine._ She stares into the glimmering glare of a sliver web hanging from a loose pipeline on the edge of her roof. Strange. She was positive she hadn't spun the truth stuck to the pipe like the web itself, and plus, hers didn't glisten. She draws in another breathe to keep her sane and stuck to the ground as the words fall out of her lips. "Is that really webbing?"

* * *

Light illuminating the apartment complex from the rotting street lamps. Standing in the glare, Cindy looks down at self now in what people would call normal clothes, so normal in fact, it was strange to her. Living in this simple look of skinnies complemented by a slim fit top and her long obsidian hair.

Like a being of clay she stands oblivious to the outside world as she feels fear for the first time tonight creeping its way into her. Burying her hand in her pocket she lifts out a key then continues to lift her weary head in ach, both physical and emotional. _This is the right thing to do, isn't it?_ She looks into the dishevelled metal, her hand bruised and gashed, awake to the truth that she was in no way looking her best. There were a million reasons to refuse this task, so many excuses to turn back the way she came in a blank state. _I can't. It's not far. I mean..._ Suddenly deviating herself a stray from the path she believes to be right, to the path she had been fearing for four years. _No. The only reason you won't do this is because your scared. Well it's time I faced my fear and, I really need to stop talking to myself._

Without letting her intellect have time turn its cogs Cindy races to the door of the apartment directly in her sight and guides the key into its lock, from that moment, it was as if Cindy's energy and courage and been leeched from her heart. Taking deep breaths, she places the weight of her hand against the faded door, forcing it lightly to open, delicately taking a step inside she can recognize the lack of care and love in this place.

Voyaging forwards down the ventshaft like hallway to the kitchen where a woman stands surrounded by drained wine bottles as she pours herself another glass before noticing the young woman in her house. Her hand loses its grip as the strength is softly ripped from her at the sight of Cindy Moon before her. The glass glides to the ground like a gentle song through the air before shattering the silence.

"Cindy?"

Cindy gazes into her eyes with heat and damp around them. Her lips shake with emotion as they faintly open. "Hi Mom."


	2. Issue 2: The Name

**Silk: Web Of Change**

 **Issue 2: The Names Silk**

"I'm sorry." She kneels on the dampness of the turf, in an ocean of graves surrounding her but one continues to have her attention. She sets her sights on her bag and steadily lifts a out gleaming bouquet of flowers to lay softly next to the memorial of Albert Moon. "Dad I'm so sorry. I should never have left."

* * *

"You came back." Tears had already soaked both their eyes, "oh my god. My baby girl came home." Having her mother clutching her daughter in the cradle of her arms, frozen by the crushing version of her own mother breaking down in pain and yet intense joy above her, Cindy felt the intense rhyme of her weak heart. The dampness of her mother's tears were being absorbed by Cindy Moon's shadowed hair. She could smell the alcohol on her breath and clothing. _Mom, what happened to you?_ Feeling responsible her tears flooded ever so more aggressively. "Where have you been?!" Their reconnection was slowly cut as the mother released the once lost from her guard. Her daughter looked down in shame, letting out a single heated tear. Her mother saw her lost treasures and pain seeping through Cindy's face before she rewrapped her in the cocoon of her parenting arms. "Another time. Cindy there's something you need to know."

"Mum, where's dad?" Having broken their connection Cindy knew something was wrong, something was missing. "Where's Allie? Where's everyone?"

* * *

"I should never have left. I was scared. I couldn't control it. I messed up, I..." At that moment something in her breaks, not physically, even if she wished it was. In this fight she'd happily rather suffer the crunch of her bones, then the cruel silence of her heart breaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Pouring out her soul uncontrollably with liquid guilt revealing itself in vast numbers, she stares into the heart of the headstone and then rests her weak hand on its granite. "I'll make this right. I promise I'll find him. I'll find Allie and bring him home." Lifting her fractured soul to its feet, companioned by a the trace of determination painted to her eye she looks at the tombstones until it rains.

* * *

 _Two Weeks Later_

* * *

"Turn here. Quick!" Rubber begins to smoke and flood to the stale air of the rotten, inclosed streets. As an elderly hatchback is thrown around the impossibility tight corners at such speeds a shadow soars throughout the orange sky at daybreak. "Did you see that?" Faces of fear looking through the bralacravers to the leader seating to right of the driver wish they could refuse his dreadful question.

"Is it true, what they say about it? Can it really fly?" One terrified teen shouts into the heated air of the car. The top dog looks at the wreck of a team player gripping his gun ever so tightly, the mixture of fear, sweat and testosterone in such a confined space being certainly unhealthy. "And can it really shoot lasers from its eye?" The words are whiplashed out of his mouth along with the rest of their heads as the chassis is whipped around like deadweight. The vehicle had thundered into a stand still without any braking or collision with anything else. "What the hell's going on?" The masked teen shouts, more to himself than anyone else, half leaving the floor open for an answer. "What are you?"

Glass shatters under the force of a fist, aggressively piercing its way through its brittle form. A hand wrapped in silk like webbing grips the leader so tight as if her hand had been nailed to his arm. She practically rings his neck.

"The name's Silk."

She pulls the scum out the window like a rag doll before throwing him to wall. "And no I'm not looking for a boyfriend" she stated flatly, full of gruff and attitude as if she were about punch him again and again until his teeth laid bare in the morning street. They are all terrified in the car, cowering before her shadow cast from the orange sun rising from over the tips of the skyscrapers of New York City. She loved it, loved the tough and rough edged she had developed and loved how the children before her were practically willing to wet themselves. One of the teenagers, dazed and confused looks to his car see the amazingly strong web vine hoisting the car to firm steel street lamp. Directing her attention to the same location she smiles before leaving. "Oh, and don't worry. The rest of you pussies are staying right there." She shoots a stream of thick matte white webs, sealing the vehicle and all in it, ironically trapping them in her web. The masked crusader turns back to face the leader with something in her eye, something he hadn't seen before, something that wasn't even there four years ago with raging heat. The game of cat and mouse was over, it was time for something much more meaningful. She struts over to him with the embodiment of intimation and focus surrounding her, almost like that of a predator. Finishing the terrifying presentation by knotting her fingers in the fabric of his shirt's color she wrenched him up to look him in the face.

"I'll put it as simple as I can; the more you talk, the less bones I'll break" she threatened in a more masculine voice as opposed to her sleek and toned physique. The thug's overwhelming fear mixed in with the fabric from the balaclava covering his lips begin distorting his words into an unrecognisable form of communication. This only dug under her skin more, in her temper she yells in nothing more than pure rage. "Where is he? Where is Al Moon?!" With anger boiling in her veins Silk rips his mask off, removing the muffling and to get a clean answer once and of all.

"I don't know!" He screams frantically, covering his precious face with his hands. "Don't hurt me please! I'll return the money" he bargains. She was hardly interested in the pitiful amount of money they had stolen. She wanted answers not cash. What she found beneath the incriminating headwear was the terrified eyes, not of a thug, not even a man but a boy with salt burning tears flooding from his eyes. Cindy retreats from holding the teen in the shock of her horrifying revelation that invaded the deepest corners of her heart like a virus. _He's no older than Allie would be._ Her face may of been behind a mask but her eyes were open for the world to see, anyone could recall the hesitation nailing her the ground. She releases him go completely, allowing him to stand away from the car where the rest of his compadres were stands frozen, taken whole by the charm of the past and how much she missed in the four years of being away. She is gobsmacked at her own negligence, and therefore ashamed.

He stands, dusting himself off almost and straightening his jeans, seeing his ravished trainers. The young criminal nervously lifts his hand up a sure slight to give mercy, for Silk is still paralysed by pettiness, some small grief and realisation. Her own inner voice of reason creeps in, shrouding her vision and takes her away fromt he now to her inner mind palace. _I can't believe how much everything's changed, it's fallen so far._ The meaning of those words aggressively pulsing through her mind lightly raises in her heartbeat. Her emotions would normally serve her well in the heat of battle but all they are doing for her now is blinding to sound of the gun behind the boy's back being cocked. The sound of the solitary click resonated throughout the small streets, clashing on the glazing of the windows and soaring back into everyone's ears. The atmosphere of this stage changes over something as simple as a lift of a hand paired with the sly snagger, dark and very like a western or a gothic night, not New York and certainly not the middle of the morning. Still stuck in her perpetual lack of motion he pulls the revolver to her face, ready to cut her heart strong and silence the masked acrobat for good. He lets out another sly and crude laugh while she stands before him.

"See ya" he breathes, the vibrations from his vocals hitting her square in the face like slap back to reality. Cindy flashes with movement, the sound of gunfire ringing within her body. The sound cracks through the sky, followed by a cry out.

* * *

The ordinary challenge of living day to day life manifests itself as a young father with his innocent daughter walking through the belly of the dying city.

"Daddy, up" she calls. The father looks in line with the point of his precious child. His eye climbs the buildings until they saw the impossible.

It was a shimmering dark navy across the sky with strands of silver and white coming from the corners. "What the?" He finds himself looking at the most absurd thing; observing a car cocooned in web. The craziest thing he can hear are voices coming from the inside of the webbing. Taking a closer look out of pure curiosity he notices the slightest signs of life coming from outside the car. "There's somebody in there!" He shouts suddenly, playing the good samaritan. "Someone call the police!" As the words respectfully left his mouth he noticed the gun.

Silk lands on a rooftop somewhere in Manhattan, the wind blowing through her long and luscious black hair as she stands up tall. She takes a sigh and removes the layer of white webbing at her mouth to reveal herself in the broad daylight. Cindy Moon. She was Silk and had been for the most part of the past four years, only now she was embracing it and her abilities in a way that no one ever had before in New York.

Air tickles Cindy's flesh along with the adrenaline, both like electricity pulsing around her body. She breaks out into a frivolous sprint. As she runs upon the rooftops of New York City like the free bird she had always told herself she was she lets out a huge grin. Her moment slowly begins to waiver to a still frame, removing her webbing mask was another shackles loose, proving to herself she was more than a vigilante, as the city would soon have her painted as should she continue. She hardly cared though. She knew she would be painted as thug, if not a murderer, but she wanted to save the city, to save her brother. For her father, for her family that had been destroyed already. She had to fix everything. She draws large amounts of ice chilled air to her lungs, feeling the cut down her desert dry throat. _Gonna need a bitter one of theses at some point._ Holding the identity protector disappointedly between her two fingers she thinks of what it would lead to. _Oh maybe something hot, like red. Yeah that'd be cool._ Cindy's joke to herself didn't last long as she finally faces the possibility that she had been running along rooftops since her return. She throws her backside to the gritty roofing of the business originated building. _Who am I kidding? I've been at this for weeks. I don't even know if he's still alive..._ She cuts herself off before going any further save saying the unthinkable.

* * *

Cindy sat on the same sofa she had sat on four years ago anxiously, while her Mother had required another full glass to feed her obvious addiction and to sedated the grievous past she was about to commemorate. "You had been gone about a year, the police had no damn idea..." Cindy saw her mourning the memories, shallowing within her and companioned by the ache of their scars. Her once lost daughter placed a comforting paw on her mother's skeleton like hand. "We all began to expect and deal with it in our own way." Taking another gulp of her cheap wine she held back her tears poorly. "Al was never the same after you left. He got into some type of gang, he stop being the sweet boy you remembered." Tears began to release, her calm voice had shattered into a heart wrenching sob. "Albert always did say we didn't just lose you that day." Cindy planted her heavy head into the boney net of her fingers. "Oh Cindy you've grown so much"

She knew her mother's heart was already stretched as far as it could cope with and this was a cry for relief but she had to hear it, she had to know. "Mom what's happened to Ali and where is Dad?" She pleaded so tenderly with the allusion to seriousness. It was such a long night. "Please just tell me."

"Ali would to go missing for days, then just turn up out the blue until the day he didn't come back at all. Weeks passed with no word, Albert one night had a lead to where Ali was, he went. I told him it didn't feel right, but he wouldn't listen." This was close to breaking her and Cindy knew it, about to release words of relief to her mother, she was shot down in flames by five words. "Then they found his body," it was in those words Cindy had found her guilt "the next day in he was found in the river."

 _It's all my fault._ If she wasn't already sitting she would felt the sudden weakness plaguing though her body like the maggots beneath the soft breakable skin. She could feel the pressure of weakness behind her eyes like a dam holding back the great flood before the inevitable crack. "Oh god Mom! It's all my fault" having been beaten down by the fists of her own guilt, she began to bleed out watery signs of damage and self hatred."Why am I so selfish? I was scared. I didn't want any of this."The damage evolved into a deep unseeable scare beneath all of Cindy's power, bravery and heart. A repeating reminder like a scratched vinyl, that her choice had lead to this.

Having noticed the slow decay of her daughter's self worth and will to keep her head held her mother placed her own reassuring hand on her shoulder, pulling Cindy in for a warm embrace.

An old saying is clear; ' _Mother means god, on the hearts and lips of every child.'_

Gripping her only daughter, her baby girl in the protective wall of her arms they both began to cry. "It's not your fault Cindy." The two reunited in the damp of their tears and the warmth of a mother and daughter's love. "I never blamed you darling and I never will."

* * *

Cindy snaps back into reality from her daydream, the light from the sun softly comforting her cheek like a old friend. The roof grew brighter in the rising sun. "Hang on, why is the sun there?" She looked to the huge clock face to side of the church. "Shit. I'm late! First day and I'm late" she curses and shakes herself. She moves in a flash, ripping a big webbed ball of sorts from the wall before yipping from the edge.

Making sure there was no trace to her previous work, Cindy walks up to the mouth of Midtown High school; its scape was bare of life but one, young blond about the same age as herself, in still what most would call school uniform, which was impossible because Midtown High didn't have a uniform. A hybrid between the formalities of a office wear and the youthfulness of a school uniform. With her loosely flowing knee length plaid skirt, compartmented by a soft cream woolen jumper with a sharp blouse underneath."Hi," she shouts, a short smile across her glowing face. "You the new girl? You're late" she continues with the irritating sound of a condescending tone beneath the delicate purity of her sharp and astute voice. She looks to the one who was cordially challenging her sense of timing, cursing under her breath briskly at being caught red footed. She feels the cold bite of the gust, the same gust blowing respectful image of virtuous blonde hair; its harmonic glow flicking in the sweet landscape of her scalp like sparks of light in the grace of the sun, before being cut by the headband that held the classic style she'd archived.

"Sorry. I had to fight my way through the traffic, it was terrible" Cindy explains looking to her with a merciful plea, in her glare. She always hated being caught or seen by a member of the elite in a school, it just annoyed her to hell. The girl in front of her was simply the latest in a long line of the sorts, the prudent uppity types or so they seemed to just clash with Cindy's vagabond and puckish rogue persona she'd done well to craft.

The woman atop the steps takes a quick breath, filling herself up with her aura of sunshine."It doesn't matter anyway. Wendy Moon isn't it?" She asks, presenting her hand in a welcoming manner, her kind yet timid eyes aligning with the hardness of Cindy's. "Gwen Stacey" she introduces with her cheerful grin. It wasn't that she was up herself or anything of the sorts, just over enthusiastic in every way and cheerful beyond belief.

"Cindy" the raven haired vigilante corrected, giggling out the word with a jesting smile. Her hand uniting with Gwen's, sharing the warmth at the touch. It was a split second of pleasantness that Cindy hadn't felt in a long time.

Gwen, anxious to the possibility of offending her begins to blossom with nerves. "Oh god I'm sorry. I'm honestly no good with names" a faint giggle lets slip from Gwen's lips amidst her incoherent babbling that Cindy found forgivable and the kind nature became transparent to Gwen, responding to it with a sweet smile back. "Right," she begins, taking her hand back and clutching at her purse. "Well we better move along, or we'll be later than we already are" she reminds herself, turning around to head back into the building with her guest in tow behind her. Together the two walk into the swallowing doors of Midtown High, Cindy looking to Gwen observing her graceful features.

In the heart of the school crowds of young people of all sizes flood their sights. Cindy can hear segments of conversations, grunts of the broody ones and attitudes sticking out miles long from almost all of them She can even spot the timid ones, the ones trying to avoid detections but not from Cindy, her senses too sharp and her vision a blur of ecstasy and euphoria of all the different and more vibrant colours to her iris. Her body cringes to the intensity of the sights, the sharp edges of all the people stabbing at her eyes. She had thought she was completely ready, she would never have considered what returning to a normal place would be like after so long. Gwen looks back to see Cindy's face same as it was outside despite the overload of change entering her retinas. "So they've put you in with me. Is that ok?" She asks humbly and in a soothing tone.

In advance to Cindy's reply, an unaware shoulder clashes with that of hers. "Watch yourself! Stupid bitch" a brash and assaulting tone cries out to the unaware Cindy Moon. Turning her attention to the accuser she meets the sight of an obviously distinct couple; a clean football player, by the silicon glare of his New York Lions jacket filled by the muscular fame beneath it. His head topped with a fashionably short radiant blond do. He is paired with an erotic, flirtatious redhead under in his dense arm, her face radiating nothing but disgust to towards Cindy's less than glamorous appearance. Her hormone encouraging makeup, with attitude filled maroon painted to her lips and shadowy judging eyes glare at the new girl, partnered with the seductive invitation of her lack of appropriate clothing, from the band printed crop top needingly displaying the busty shape of her chest.

"What's your damn deal?" Cindy shouts across the hall to the bulldozing couple blasting their way past anyone else in their way. _Total dicks._ Notes of anger ring in Cindy's voice, this was not the day to piss her off.

"You got a problem?" The redhead woman shrieks back towards Cindy and Gwen, setting up the challenge.

Gwen steps forward, parallel to Cindy while the space between the two pairs cleared of everyone else. "Mary Jane, just leave here alone" Gwen invokes, her unimpressive but brave tone vibrating at a crystal clear pitch, that all could understand. Gwen's eye harder than when Cindy first met her, like she was the water to her clay and the redhead had felt the white wash of Gwen's bark over Cindy's simply because she knew her.

Mary, colliding with Gwen's defensive words uncontrollably discharges a swell of rage almost as if her own faux positive charge didn't agree with her, which it really didn't when a catfight was on the cards. "Who's talking to you freak? You finally got yourself a girlfriend?" She spat at the blond petite Gwen, laughing to the comedic show of her unchangeable status. "It's Mary Victoria actually" she adds with a kick of her own vulgar attitude that could tranquilize and football player with its annoying and brash aftershocks. Gwen slowly begins cowering back into her shaped body, somewhat embarrassed and defeated. "Maybe you should learn to pick a better fight," Mary continues to mock with hands on hips, "but then again you're so much like your mother."

The string in Cindy snaps like a twig. She'd figured out that Gwen was the daughter of Detective Stacy, the one she had helped nights ago and she had also deduced about the fate of his wife and Gwen's mother. That simply did not stand in her books as a viable insult. "That's enough!" She blares into Mary's face, her fists clenched and her chest out as a show of moxy and willingness for violence. "You have no right! If you want to say shit, say shit to someone who'll do something about it" she challenges the redhead like she were Gwen's own mother. Cindy rises to protect someone she barely knew, story of her life one would say. "Just piss off" she shoots from fairly pursed lips. Her heightened senses suddenly predict the fall of Mary's right shoulder, she prepares to impound this back bit hitting her jaw with a single hard thud from her elbow. With a single step to the side of Mary's incoming attack and a jab from her elbow reinforced by her offhand to the fist for an extra dose of force, the redhead and her cheap and dirty jab is suddenly cut down before Cindy, Gwen and the rest of the observing student body. Eyes look to the shocked glare of another. In the evergreen of her eyes, Cindy sees the swirling hate of everyone living more fortunate than her, which explains the shade of depression standing beside her like a phantom. Mary stands straight with a rage filled with rage and outrage. "Back off!" She yells into the empty space between herself and her attacker.

The flaming redhead tries to apply pressure and offset the balance of Cindy's stance with a shove but as if her innards were replaced with the density of stone she wouldn't budge, an immovable statue mocking her. Recognising the unsettling fact that she is clearly outclassed in this clash of titans Mary feels the paranoia building the walls of humiliation and she knew if she didn't place her next move right, it would tumble above her. "Watch your backs, you never know who's behind." As the chill of from Mary's frozen blue eyes ran its crawls down Gwen's curvish back she turns away and begins to leave with her partner around her. Fear may have taken Gwen tightly by the hand but Cindy's hands free from her anger as Mary turns away from them with the stench of disrespect oozing out of her smug smirk.

"What a jerk. Are you okay?" Cindy words are comforting to Gwen as the void between the two pairs enlarges so does Gwen's self society, her fear suddenly dissolves simply by exposure to the strong woman near her.

"Yeah I'm fine," Gwen reassures her, trying relocate her breath. "That's Mary Jane Watson. Well it was, now it's Mary Victoria apparently. She used a good friend" She explains while they too returned with the walking. "Then she met that jerk." Gwen was of course referring to the hunk of meat that had had his arm around the girl. The tremendously handsomeness of his defined arm around the thinness of Mary's shoulders looking unhealthy to the common folk. Finished by him running his greedy hand down the runway of her spine. "Flash Thompson" Gwen reveals, Cindy remembering his smug and almost vulgar face. Their steps soon begin to find the rhythm again as the two journey through the sea of faces. "I bet if she left Flash and got with someone actually nice, she would have been alright" she added, a hint of resentment in her voice.

* * *

"Please I can get back the money?" Blind to the outside world due to terrifying darkness that plagues his vision, relying on his other four senses to detect his correct residents. Feeling the achy, rough sack on his head and the cutting chill of the steel handcuffs unnecessarily tight around his wrists. Breathing in the thin scent of raw fish seeping through the fabric of the bag. His knees would surely bruise from kneeling on the unmaintained cemented ground, if he lives long enough to even get up off of it. Whoever is around him had finally walked over his grave leaving a trail of untamable fear in his far too young of a soul. "Look. it wasn't my fault, she came out of nowhere, please I-"

Cut from his prophetic cry by a single cold bluntly placed word, matching over to his ears. "She?" The equaliser repeats, his tone cold and stainless like a sword falling down on the kid's tongue to silence him. The delivery of that single word the clearest and yet muffled syllable to ever enter an ear. His breath loses its rhythm and becomes replaced by the composition of the conshendo of dread and the rising beat of panic. "She?" He repeats again with an extra waft of air following, invisible to the lad behind the bag.

"She called herself Silk," the guy explains, somewhat trembling as he leaves off. The words being spat from the terrified boy's hidden mouth. "She's one of them freaks, those mutants. And she shoots ropes out of her fingers. That's all I know I swear" he pleads, scrambling his hands behind his back but to no avail with them bound. Like a wild animal the terrified youth had lost control of breathing and tone of voice, wet with fear for the thing in front of him. The eyes of the lamb growing heavy in the darkness though the weight of the water building within.

"You cooperation has been most appreciated," he starts, ecstasy sounding from his flat and muffled voice. "But no act can relieve any man of his failures." Rebellion and disorder begin to spill out of sacked prisoner's head. Sounds that matter not, the pathetic chime of pleading for mercy. Uncontrollable rage, fear and the unwillingness to be put down like an ill pet.

* * *

The radiant shine of the sun's rays, gloriously pierce through the glass in the classroom. The light illuminating the faces of prestigious and promising futures as they sit absorbing the knowledge like it was power. All but one are embracing it. Cindy's jet black hair spreads across her desk like the roots of a great tree, life outside the branches of nest like hair seem dampened; the light the sound, her world. "And that's how scorpions as a species.. Cindy Moon, Cindy!" One of the voices in the room call out to her just as she begins to drift off startling Cindy as her exhausted and shot down mind is forced to reboot.

"I wasn't sleeping, promise" she shoots out quickly, hardly able to see as her eyes are still almost glued together by lack of sleep over the past nights.

"Do you think I was born yesterday young lady?" Replies the lecturer at the front of the class. They stare at each other with unimpressed pictures painted on their faces. _Oh just shut up. You were just as boring when we first met. Now look at you, Stillwell._ "Well if you weren't sleeping, you'll have no problem answering this then. What are the symptoms to a scorpion's venom?" He sets her, looking smug and victorious. Smiling to himself like a child would in a sweetshop, the vibration of the other students sniggering makes its way to Cindy and Gwen's ears like toddlers. Gwen begins to bury her head in embarrassment and pity for Cindy's sure humiliation.

* * *

"Where is it?" Screamed a tall and twistedly thin crooked female to an elderly male that was clothed in the formal wear of a Captain. On his knees with the sway of the deck beneath him, as the harshness of the raging waves attacked the sides of the ship like a pack wolves crawling at the brack. Age and knowledge were clearly characteristics of his natural raggedness. "Tell me where it is Captain!" The question had been repeated by the mutineer.

The elder looked up to face the twisted act presented to him. It was painted with the colour of two personnels, bright vibrant starks for child's youth and the grays of a crooked woman like a painting. Cindy had been imprisoned by her in bone like bars that were her arms. "Cindy. Look at me, just keep looking at me, everything's going to be okay." The Captain tried to comfort the child by his warm, father like eyes and warm words but fear had already since conquered her. A stare of question bloomed between them as he look to her fingers seeing the web develop underneath Cindy's cratered nails, they both knew she could end now if they wasn't the unknown watching. So the Captain did what he felt he had to, focusing on her cocktail mix eyes of fear and anger. _Don't kid_.

"I think our Captain needs some encouragement." In a rupturing second the imprisoner snatched something out of her pocket slammed her hand and the object into the child neck.

An agonising scream released from the little lungs of the thirteen year old girl, before collapsing to chilling steel of ship's deck. "No! What have you done!" In panic and dread the Captain felt his lungs fire the words like ammunition to this witch.

The enjoyment of the crooked woman's inviting smile was sickening. "I've injected her with scorpion venom," the mutineer explained to the Captain, Cindy's body twitching with electric pluses through her. The sight was horrific. "Oh Cap, I don't know how long she's got."

"I'll kill you," the Captain barked, spitting out words. "I swear to God I'm gonna kill you."

"So I'll ask you again, where is it?" The mutineer countered with the smugness of the villainous crook mocking the Captain's threat.

* * *

The class waits eagerly on Cindy's reply to Mr Stillwell's question. "Widespread numbness, difficulty with swallowing," she spits at him after a second of thought into her traumatising past, the memories piercing her mind like a raging storm. "Blurred vision, seizures, salivation, and difficulty with one's breathing." A single tear escapes from Cindy's damp, oak eyes accompanied by a weakened voice or perhaps cry. "See told you I was listening."

Mr Stillwell can see the emotion in her heart through her swollen eyes and felt the guilt along with it. "Well... Right, back to," A shockwave thunders its way through Cindy's mind. "What, not now?" A shattering raw tears though the glass with intense impact. Panic infects the class like an epidemic of fear. Cindy pulls her version back to together. _What the hell was that?_

"Stillwell!" A female voice cuts into Stillwell's and Cindy's ears with merciless intention, flooding him to break with torment. _You? Please no, not you._ Having been left by all but Gwen the two witness the armored woman standing in the widow, green steel and chrome flickering in the sun like a laser to the former professor. All three standing differently to spot the rise of the tools to the direction of the professor, the green glowing as its towers over her head like scorpion's tail.

"Your prize has returned. Lover."

To Be Continued.


End file.
